


"Intemperate" Indeed, Good Man

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander is emotional, Anger, Angry Sex, Fist Fight, Horny, Humiliation, It Must Be Nice To Have Washington On Your Side, Jefferson is a piece of trash and I will fight him, Love-Making, M/M, Mentions of Slavery, Mouthfucking, Multi, Name Calling, Poor Alexander, blow-job, non-consensual mouth fucking, oh god I'm SO SORRY, shaming, shit-talking, sweetheart Burr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7102000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It must be nice to have Washington on your side.<br/>Burr eggs on Jefferson's anger and Madison helps. In the end, Burr regrets it a lot. Alexander is pitiful.<br/>Jefferson wants to teach him a lesson in respect.<br/>Burr makes love to him when they're gone.<br/>This is a mess.<br/>Poor Alexander.<br/>Also, Burr becomes super sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Intemperate" Indeed, Good Man

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry about this. I don't know where I thought this was going to go, but certainly not where it did. Yikes. Enjoy.

“He won’t support the French? He won’t support the French!” 

Jefferson’s eyes are near to dropping from their sockets at the apparent ignorance of Madison. Of course Hamilton isn’t supporting the French, Jefferson thought silently to himself, the man is loyal only unto himself.

“Well what exactly were you expecting, James? The man is a walking contradiction and an abhorred secretary who only works to put money in his own pockets. You really think the man would hold a single word up? Even a word he promised to Lafayette?”

“I hate the man. He accumulates what he needs and then disregards all other causes. He needs to go.”

“He needs to learn,” Jefferson shoots back, fire in his eyes and a plan forming in his mind, “someone needs to teach him where his loyalties stand and where his word is not needed.” 

“It must be nice, having Washington on your side,” Burr slips into the conversation slyly, hands fidgeting with his cufflinks but voice full of disdain. This only seems to egg Jefferson on in his anger, a burning fire seeming to begin its growth in his eyes.

As he crosses the otherwise empty meeting hall from where he stands, his hands smooth back the wild curls of his hair, fingers twitching in contempt. “Every action has its equal and opposite reaction. Thanks to Hamilton, our cabinet is being fractured into factions. We’re trying not to crack under the stress, but we’re breaking down like fractions.” 

Burr rolls his eyes to this, thinking to himself that only the enemy of one Alexander Hamilton would speak in speeches so similar to Hamilton’s own. James, however, nods his head in agreement as if agreeing with every word he is saying. No doubt that he was. Madison always did seem to flock to Jefferson’s side, he thought.

“I get no satisfaction witnessing his fits of passion. The way he ‘primps’ and ‘preens’ and dresses like the pits of fashion. Our poorest citizens, our farmers, are living on rations, all while Wall Street robs them blind in search of chips to cash in. This prick is asking for someone to bring him to task. Somebody give me some dirt on this vacuous mass so we can at last unmask him. I’ll pull the trigger on him, someone load the gun and cock it. While we were all watching, he got Washington in his pocket.”

Fancy words of justice coming from a slaver, Burr thought to himself. Instead of commenting on Jefferson’s acts of hypocrisy, however, he only moved to egg him on.  
“It must be nice to have Washington on your side. Good sirs, look at the Bill of Rights,” Burr spun his words carefully, choosing to ignore the intruding claim of writing the bill that Madison just had to announce, “the ink has yet to dry. And still, it must be awful nice to have Washington on your side.” Of course it is. Hamilton had all that he had thanks to Washington alone. No matter how the image is spun, Hamilton would not have gotten to where he was in the government if it were not for the man. Alexander was held at such a high level that he could get away with the acts that seemed to be only in favor of Hamilton’s own personal gain. 

Jefferson stood at one side of the room, fingers tracing over the paintings on the wall in blind annoyance, not for a second paying attention to what he was touching. Burr couldn’t help but think about how this situation was inherently helpful to him. With even more people standing against Hamilton, his chances of success grew. Once a friend, now a foe. 

“He has doubled the size of our government. Is it not correct that much of the trouble with our previous government was it’s size?” Madison cued in, hands moving methodically over the surface of the long table where he sat. His ascot sat in a wrinkled disarray before him, long since discarded in the heated discussions about the secretary of treasury. Jefferson turns toward him at this, eyes narrowing in thought, head bobbing in bitter agreement. 

“Look at his eyes!” Burr ebbed on, his own eyes alight with a passionate irritation that was only seeming to grow on. 

“See how he lies,” Jefferson drawls in an entirely new tone of voice.

“We must follow the scent of his enterprise,” stated Madison, as if it was news to any of them.

“He is centralizing national credit and making American credit competitive.”

“If we do not stop it, it will seem that we aid and abet it.”

“Then I will have to resign.”

“Someone has to stand up for the South!”

“Someone has to stand up to his mouth!” Burr mentioned in exasperation, hands thrown in the air as he paced back and forth in front of the tall wooden doors. This statement brought a dirty smirk to Jefferson’s mouth, something sour being plotted in his mind, no doubt.

“I am in the cabinet. I have watched him grab at the power and kiss at it. If Washington is not going to listen to disciplined dissidents, this is the difference: this kid is out!” In his increased fit of rage, Jefferson strode forward towards the opposite end of Madison’s table and slammed his fist down, knocking down a quill and sending a pot of ink shattering to the floor. Burr looked on from a few feet away, elbows resting on the top of a tall-backed chair near the large doors. The room was heating, and Jefferson looked equal parts passionate and furious.

“This immigrant is not someone that we chose!” Burr decided for the four of them, joining in igniting the flame. 

“This immigrant is keeping us all on our toes!” Added Madison, his own anger finally beginning to be apparent. 

“Let us show these federalists what they are up against: Southern mother-fucking democratic-republicans!” Jefferson shouted nearly at the top of his lungs, a radiant blaze of pure infuriation burning in his eyes. He grabbed angrily at the chair nearest to him and sent it flying into a corner of the room, the veins in his neck straining and his long coat disrobed in favor of rolled up sleeves and free arms. 

“Let us follow the money in order to see where it is going. Every second the treasury seems to grow. Now, if we follow the money in order to see where it leads, I am sure that we will find an array of Hamilton’s misdeeds,” Burr jumped in, taking a step back, and with a cool authoritarian voice. 

“We will follow the money and see where it goes,” Madison repeated, fingers probing gently at his jaw in consideration, eyebrows drawn together.

“The emperor has no clothes,” Jefferson seethed, the comparison of Hamilton to the age-old folktale about greed seeming to be necessary. 

“We won’t be invisible-” Burr began, only to be cut off by the voice of James Madison, who slammed his fist against the table in an almost gentle manner. 

“We won’t be denied!”

“Still,” Jefferson muttered in disgust, “it must be nice to have Washington on your-”

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeek.

The noise that was made as the grand doors of the meeting room were slowly pushed open.

“Mr. Senator, Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison,” and oh, how the head’s turned as Hamilton walked into the room. “If you will excuse my interruption, I believe I forgot some things of mine,” the short man spoke slowly and narrowly, disdain clear in his eyes and yet words soft and calculated. As if he knew that he had already put all three of the opposing men in a rage-filled disposition during the cabinet meeting. As he headed towards the back of the long meeting hall, intent on simply grabbing his articles and leaving, the open doors were closed in a deliberately slow manner. 

“Ah, Mr. Hamilton, just the man that we were hoping to see,” Jefferson claimed in an almost eerily cheerful tone. The room is humid and remarkably tense, with the air around the men nearly crackling with the proximity of something intense going down. Madison’s eyes narrow as he watched Hamilton march past him with his head held high, and even he could sense that something irrevocable was about to happen. The normally calm tempered man was nearly moved to reach out and kill the big-mouthed secretary himself. 

Burr obviously had no interest in what was to happen next. It somehow seemed clear to all members of the room, aside from Alexander himself, that something unmistakably heavy was about to happen. All at Jefferson’s hands of course. While it was in fact very true that Burr wanted to see the downfall of Hamilton, he certainly had… more subtle ways to go about it. But no, just like Hamilton, Jefferson had to face things head on. The senator watched Jefferson carefully out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see what move he was going to make next. To his confusion, Jefferson walked over to the chair that he had previously thrown, setting it up against the solid knobs of the doors in order to keep intruders from entering. This automatically heightened the tension within the room to an unmistakeable degree. 

“Well I’ll. Be. Damned. Mr. Secretary of Treasury, are you sure that you did not return to finish the little dispute that your father so willingly settled for you?” Jefferson drawled, hands on his hips as he headed away from the blockaded doors and in the direction where Hamilton stood. The shorter man, whose hair was falling in disarray out of his ponytail. His back was turned away from Jefferson, and so he had no idea of his approach, nor did he realize that he had been locked within the room with three men of whom would not have a problem with killing him any day of the month. It is too bad that Alexander was far too hot-headed for his own good. 

“He is not my father,” Hamilton seethed, hands clutching angrily at his ruffled shirt leave as he turned to face the exit, “and if you backwards speaking Southern dumbasses would-” 

Not another word left Alexander’s lips for at least a minute after that, however. He was far too preoccupied with holding his cuff to his lip in order to slow the bleeding that amounted from the harsh right hook that Jefferson landed. While Jefferson had a clear look of satisfaction on his face, both Burr and Madison shared a scornful glance at what was to come. 

“You were saying about the south?” Jefferson spat viciously, absolutely ready for his next shot.

“You francophilic piece of shit!” Alexander shot back after maybe ten seconds, throwing himself in the direction of Jefferson immediately. Thomas was ready for this, however, and easily dodged the blow that Hamilton attempted to land on him. 

“You want something small man? You are just a boy, don’t you see? A lousy nuisance trying to run with the big men. Give it up already before I do something to bring you to your knees,” and Jefferson shoved him hard as he caught himself from his dissatisfying attempt at a punch.

“You speak of power and of ability, but you hide behind slaves and higher end business partners to do all of your work!” This time Hamilton managed to land a bitter punch to Jefferson’s side; however, it is not enough to knock him down. Jefferson merely bites back a winded cough, sneering dangerously at the words that do not stop flowing from other man’s mouth.

And oh how Burr and Madison watched on in horror as their own ebbing and pushing sent Jefferson into a violent rage against the one man that, while yes he was widely hated amongst the three, was much younger, smaller, and was even almost more passionate than Jefferson himself. Almost, that is. 

But no, in this situation, Jefferson definitely had the upper hand.

Within a few minutes of scuffling, arguably well placed punches, and violent words of disgust and hatred, Jefferson managed to get Hamilton pinned up against the solid oak wall. It practically took all of the strength within both men not to spit in the others face; even with Jefferson mere inches away and with his own hands pinned up above his head, Hamilton struggled until he was red in the face and had veins nearly popping from under his skin. Jefferson had to grin a malicious grin at this, his mind running on hyperdrive at the image of Hamilton struggling angrily beneath him. He was sure he had imagined something like this in one of his dreams once, although hardly as futile- 

And then Hamilton was free again, but it really didn’t matter, because the second Alexander had spit in Jefferson’s face and had gone in to knock him out, Jefferson was already lifting his knee up into Hamilton’s gut and bringing him to his knees; where Jefferson had wanted him to be since the beginning.

All at once time seemed to freeze. Hamilton glared up at Jefferson under heavy eyelashes at the same time that Jefferson glanced down condescendingly at Alexander’s bowed form. Jefferson’s own ascot somehow found it’s way into his hands, and as he tied up Alexander’s submitting hands, all members of the room seemed to come to terms with the erection that had been straining against Jefferson’s trousers for the last five minutes. There was no fear in Hamilton’s eyes, only loathing and an obviously sense of urgency. 

While Burr looked on in alarm at the growing situation, Madison rose to his feet and handed Jefferson his own wrinkled ascot. With the second ascot they tied together his feet in order to keep him from running, were he to come to his feet. Thomas smiled something dark and ominous at James as he nodded his head slowly and turned to face Alexander. 

“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, about Mr. Washington! Ha, I guess he can’t get you out of this one, can he?”

“Shut the fuck up Jefferson you sick son-of-a-bitch and untie me right now! What the hell do you even think that you’re doing? What, do you plan on hiding me away from the world in order for your voice to be heard? Do you think that if I’m gone for a little while Washington will decide to go to war? You have another thing coming for you Jefferson if you think what I think you do! And another thing-” Hamilton was cut off by the deafening slap that Jefferson sent across his face. Tears were brought to his eyes and he had to bite back from making a snide comment about Jefferson being a coward. Somehow, Alexander had yet to realize quite what was going on. Nobody had known that Jefferson had been planning something like this all along, nor did Jefferson realize it would be oh-so satisfying. 

“Is your mouth shut now, or do I have to go to greater extents?” the secretary of state asked in deliriously low voice. Jefferson bent over slightly, tilting Hamilton’s face into the light so as to be eye-to-eye with the beaten down man. He had the beginning’s of bruises forming here and there all over his body, and this brought Jefferson a sick sense of pleasure. He tutted lightly in Alexander’s face, brushing Alex’s loosened hair behind his ears and trailing his fingers up and down the side of his face. He observed the expanse of the man’s jaw, rubbing the pads of his left-hand thumb uncharacteristically gently against Alexander’s bottom lip. 

At this, Alex felt the urge to bite down hard on the taller man’s thumb, tearing down the last shred of patience Jefferson wielded.

“What the fuck do I have to do in order to get you to behave, boy? You want me to whip you? Because I will if I must. I could always beat you some more. And this time you are unable to defend yourself! Or maybe,” he begins, eyes straying towards the man’s heaving chest and then lower, “maybe I should just go about this the way I have been meaning to.” 

And then Madison was turning around to face the wall to feign ignorance, and Burr was far too entranced with the entire situation to blink. Jefferson drew off his trousers in record time, keeping a keen eye on his hostage. He was pantless, and Alexander was struck with what was about to happen. He was appalled, pissed beyond belief, and unspeakably turned on. Jefferson surely noticed that, as he also noticed Hamilton's eyes widen at the sight of his erection springing up against his belly.

“Jefferson- what the ever-living hell do you think that you are doing??” Burr questioned indignantly at the sight before him, feet moving forward despite his mind telling him how bad of an idea that would be. He stopped himself before he made it too far.

“Let’s see: teaching dear Hamilton here a lesson about respect. I’m sure he will take something out of this-” 

“But this is sodom-”

Jefferson chose to interrupt Burr with unnecessarily cruel laughter, grabbing Hamilton by the jaw and turning his face up at a painful angle. Alexander winced but made no comment.

“You like using that mouth so much, how about you open it for me now?” 

When no answer arrived beside a steely glare, Jefferson pried Alexander’s mouth open with his fingers, and before Alexander could bite at him or attempt to turn away from him, Jefferson’s heavy cock was forced into his mouth. Hamilton glared up at him in pure rage, gagging as Jefferson half-chuckled in triumph and half groaned in sheer pleasure. He had been wanting to de-humanize Alexander this way since the moment he opened his mouth in the early hours of the day. 

Burr’s alarm turned into shock, and then into horror as he watched Jefferson pull nearly all of the way out of Hamilton’s mouth and then send himself surging forward to fuck the man’s face as Hamilton continued to fight against his restraints. In apall, Burr realized that he himself was becoming rather turned on by the situation.

“Do you like that you little bitch? Is this what you’ve been wanting? This form of attention? You never do shut your mouth, and after all, you do crave attention oh-so endlessly- God, you almost look pretty this way.”

“My God, he’s making Hamilton into a whore,” Burr murmured to himself as he somehow managed to draw his eyes away from the scene and towards the heated face of James Madison. Despite being Jefferson’s friend, he clearly wanted nothing to do with this sort of… ‘business.’ Calculating every that had began to go down, Burr was shocked that he had not realized sooner that this was the sort of thing that was going to happen. Jefferson had been cluing this sort of thing all along, but Jefferson never seemed the type to… oh, but forget that, Burr was slowly becoming more and more engulfed by the feeling of longing and exhilarated by the sound of Hamilton slurping at Jefferson’s swollen cock. He somehow managed to take it like a common prostitute of whom had grown used to this sort of thing. 

“I would much rather hear this on a regular basis than whatever bullshit normally spews from that stupidly big mouth of yours- have you any experience with this? Because, oh sweet jesus, your mouth is so wet and tight and perfect right now.”

Hamilton, dear idiotic Hamilton, stared Jefferson straight on in order to try and retain any shred of dignity that he could. The man first had trapped him in here, then he had knocked his down with cowardly punches, and then he had had the sense to tie him up, and now he was being forced to take a prick to the throat like a common whore? Worst of all, Hamilton found himself enjoying it. Sure, he had tears of embarrassment ready to fall from his eyes and sobs of the same type ready to erupt were they able to come out, but the feeling of cock fucking back against his throat honestly felt so good to him, so perfect and normal and absolutely satisfying. 

That made him want to kill someone. And maybe he would, were he not already running low on energy from fighting back. All the meanwhile Jefferson tugged roughly at his hair and slapped at his face in order to further his pain and humility. 

“You’re just loving this, aren’t you? Oh, you simply adore the attention. Bet you wished I’d have fucked you like this ages ago. How empty you must have felt. You don’t get anything like this from your wife; no, you have to take the lead there. But you, you are just so submissive and pretty that this was just bound to be. Oh yeah, you’re a good little whore, you are.”

That seemed to be the defining moment where Hamilton broke, his fight falling to empty ears. The pain of his strained marriage, the loss of Laurens, the Reynold’s Affair, his betraying Lafayette, everything that up until that point had chipped away slowly at his imagine and person emotional state. He had hardly slept for weeks as it was, and this was the defining moment that tore down Alexander Hamilton. 

All three were dumbfounded as they witnessed Hamilton break down, and then simply give in, before them. A wretched sob fell from Alexander’s lips as Jefferson pulled out; instead of readying himself to push back in, Jefferson stared down in a dumbfounded state at the tears falling like a waterfall from the defiled man’s eyes. Sobs erupted from his lips, and the wailing noise was almost too much to bare for those in the room. After a few seconds, the sobs ceased and were replaced by broken, desperate whimpers. Jefferson leaned down and pulled Alexander’s body up against his own. None of the men had noticed until that moment just had small and fragile Hamilton seemed. There was no doubt in any of their minds that he had lost a lot of weight in the recent weeks and that he had heavy black bags under his eyes. None of the men knew what to do in that moment. None had known that this was going to happen.

“Will you be quiet now if I untie you?” Jefferson questioned silently, his hands heading towards the ties binding Hamilton’s hands and feet. He had been stunned by the display of emotion shown by Hamilton and was moved to be more compassionate than normal. Hamilton only nodded bleakly at the question, his head falling gently to the side. As Burr finally yet slowly approached the scene, Hamilton rested his forehead against the man’s tensed shoulder. Taken back by this, Burr merely drew in a shallow breath and rested a surprisingly cold hand against the back of Hamilton’s sore neck.

Hamilton keeps to his word and only spoke when spoken to. Aside from that, he kept silent beside the occasional sniffle as Jefferson undid the ascots that had been imprisoning him. 

“Hamilton, I’m not quite done with you,” Jefferson said thoughtfully after a minute or two in silence. Thrown off and completely disgusted by this statement, Burr turned his head to the side and opened his mouth as if ready to curse Jefferson to hell.

“You must be jesting?? The man is in ruins and in such an emotional state, yet you still wish to force him to have oral intercourse with you? You are a fucked up man Thomas Jefferson. I wouldn’t expect any less from a slaver.”

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you, Senator Burr,” chimed in Madison for the first time in over 10 minutes. He still sat with his back towards the other three men, yet his shoulders were tense and his fists were bunched into balls on the table.

“No, no, James. Burr is right. I am quite the awful man, aren’t I? Nonetheless, I am still set out to achieve what I had in store. You can join me or you can leave.”  
Burr was dumbstruck, to say the least. To ask such a man as Burr to join him in these illegal and immoral activities? Everyone knew what kind of person Burr was. To actually offer up something like that was insane, and yet, Burr couldn’t help but curse himself out for actually contemplating the offer.

“Are you insane? You think I would actually join you on something like this? This, this, this lechery, this rape, this sodomy? You need to sort yourself out, sir.”

“Okay, fine. Then let him go and let me have him.”

“Are you kidding me?? I’m not giving him to you. Even he deserves better than that. And you know how much I despise the man.”

“Look, if you don’t hand him over, the both of us will have quite the problem. And yes, that’s a threat.”

“Jefferson, you are out of your mind-”

To the surprise of all, Hamilton shifted slowly from Burr’s hands and back onto the cold floor, quiet words slowly leaving his mouth. “It’s fine, Burr. Let him do this. Then it will be over and everything will be forgotten.”

“Alexander, you do not know what you are saying. You are in no state to-”

“I said it’s fine. I don’t care. I had it coming anyway, right?”

Burr’s mouth went dry at that, his hands shifting between wanting to draw Alex back into his chest and moving to push the advancing Jefferson away from the broken man. In the end, Burr leaned over in order to draw Hamilton into his arms and lead him towards the long table. At least there the activities would be more comfortable, he told himself. Whether or not that was true he did not know, he merely was doing the only thing he could.

“Burr, I think you might as well join me. I know that you liked what you were watching earlier. Hamilton has to learn one way or another not to disrespect those who work hard around here,” Jefferson sneered, hands trailing along the end of the table perpendicular to where Hamilton laid facedown. 

“Jefferson, what are you even suggesting?” Burr asked as he smoothed his coat down nervously and drew his hand along Hamilton’s back. 

“You’re really not getting it? I’m suggesting that you fuck him.”

“I- and- what??” 

“You know what, Burr.”

“I’ve already told you that I want no part of this. Even if, I don’t-” Burr was cut off by a concerningly gentle tug at his shirt cuff. Hamilton, of course. The man still had tears in his eyes, and he was looking up at Burr with such a pleading look that his heart nearly broke for the man for the first time in his life. Leaning over, he cast his eyes to the side as he listened to what the broken man had to say.

“Please, Burr, just do it-”

“Hamilton, I-” 

“Please, he’ll stop if you do this. He’ll stop for a while. I deserve it, anyway. Someone needs to make me hurt for all of the awful things I have done.”

Burr was, for the millionth time that day, utterly shocked by the words he was hearing. Hamilton wanted this now? Or did he simply want it in order to have the violent ministrations upon his body come to an end? And if it was the latter, why did Hamilton look up at Burr with such lustful, wanton, needy eyes? He seemed innocent and like a master of seduction all at once, and as Alexander began to nuzzle against his large hand, his decision was made.

“Fine.”

“Ah ah ah! Finally. I knew you would see it my way soon enough,” piped in Jefferson, hand already hovering over his own still erect cock which was by all means a disgruntling picture.

“I’m doing this by my own terms, Jefferson. I do to Hamilton what I want to, not what you tell me. I do not have to make him wish death upon himself like you do.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say Mr. Senator,” and with no warning whatsoever, Jefferson was returning his cock to Alex’s awaiting mouth. The man in question whimpered lightly as Jefferson set a brutal pace, clutching onto Hamilton’s hair like before. This time, Hamilton clutched to the edges of the table with fingers curling under the surface in order to hold himself in place. Burr watched this from his end of the table in disgust before glancing over Hamilton’s small body. Cringing to himself, he noticed the spots along the small man’s frame where bones were more visible than they should have been. Pushing this to the side, Burr slowly reached under Hamilton in order to undo his belt and slide his trousers down his legs, along with his undergarments. Once unclothes from the waist down, Burr silently appreciated the view that he had of the man’s tanned skin and small structure. 

“There there, Hamilton,” he whispered silently more to himself than to anyone else in the room, “I will make sure to take care of you.”

Where Jefferson was violent and quick paced, Burr was slow and careful in his ministrations. First he merely placed his fingertips upon the crease in Hamilton’s thighs, slowly rubbing up and down against the skin. Even so gently, he leaned down to place soft kisses upon the soft skin behind his knees. Against Jefferson’s cock Hamilton sighed contently. After this, Burr ever-so-gently slid into place between Alex’s legs, spreading them further apart and rubbing his palms up and down the expanse of his stiff thighs. Burr’s touch calmed the tension there, and there was a stark contrast between the heartless fucking that Jefferson was submitting Alex to and the gentle massaging that Burr gave to Alex’s thighs. Content with his participation so far, Burr slowly took to unclothing himself, eyes cast down so as to pretend that he couldn’t see the harsh treatment that the small man was receiving. The worst part of it all was that Alexander believed that he deserved this. Just because the man had a notably strong reaction to Jefferson’s attack did not mean that he wanted to receive any treatment of the sort, and Burr knew that the man sprawled out on the table did not want it like this. He did not like Jefferson and to be so utterly defiled and humiliated by him was by far the worst sort of humiliation his mind could conjure. 

“You gonna fuck him or what, Senator? He has it coming! If you don’t, maybe I’ll have to step in and teach him another lesson.”

This got Aaron to move at a swifter pace, fingers moving to rub at Alexander’s hole gently in order to make the act the least bit painful that he could manage. Burr knew that if Jefferson were to take over his place, Alex would be ultimately damaged and emotionally scarred for a limitless amount of time. There was no doubt in his heart that the cruel man wouldn’t bother prepping the unstable man and would simple push in against the friction of his dry skin. That wasn’t something that was about to happen. And so Burr continued one, sparing a second to send Jefferson a bitter glare. Hamilton let out a shudder at the thought of Jefferson’s actions were he in Burr’s place, and he had no doubt that he was not ready to endure that torture. 

“I’m getting to it. You don’t need to take your time, you know. Just fuck him and get done with it.”  
“Oh, so you want him all to yourself now, huh? That’s more like it. I knew you’d summon the courage. Not as cowardly as I thought!” Jefferson’s claim came like a slap to Burr’s face. Perhaps the slave owner thought that Burr was being possessive and wanted to use Alexander to his own advantage, but that was simply not the case. Yes, he wanted to be left alone with Alex, but he also wanted to him that he could be treated right. That to be with another man he didn’t need to be ripped apart and bled. 

Burr spit on his fingers before carefully pushing his index against the tight muscle. His finger sunk in slowly in hopes of claiming any sort of honor for the man. Hamilton muffled a groan against Jefferson’s relentless cock as this, all but numb to the assault that his mouth had been receiving for the last 15 minutes. And I mean, really, how long could Jefferson last? Hopefully not much longer.

The finger that Burr had pushed into Alexander’s backside was soon met by another one, the two used to stretch against the defiant muscle that was unaccustomed to the intrusion. When he felt tension pulling at his fingers, Burr leaned over to spit on his active fingers. This gave more leeway, and he could feel Hamilton trying to push back against the fingers. Were it not for Jefferson holding his head in place and occupying his mouth, the man probably would have been preening and asking for more. Instead, Burr had to guess when enough was enough and he was ready to be taken. Within a minute or two, and with the addition of a third and final finger, Burr decided that Hamilton was ready to take it. The man wouldn't necessarily be one to gloat about the size of his cock, because perhaps it didn’t hold any records for mass, but he did have to give himself credit. He was of creditable length and thickness. Enough to leave some asking for more, but certainly enough to satisfy. 

Alexander took it like a champ as Burr slowly began to push in. No doubt the man was initially in some sort of pain, as Burr hadn’t had anything besides his own spit and pre-cum to lessen the friction between his cock and Alexander’s hole. Beside a shudder and a choked-off sob, the man made no attempt to escape from the ministrations. 

Jefferson groaned in intense satisfaction as Hamilton’s lips closed tighter around his cock in order to keep from crying out, and the fingers that Jefferson had strewn through the small man’s hair were pulling his head back in order to command that Hamilton look him in the eye. He continued fucking his face good and hard, eyes blazing with contempt for the man and balls seizing up as if ready to come any moment. 

Burr pushed himself in until he was fully sheathed inside of the man, eyes closing tightly in and breathe being held. All he truly wanted to do was pull back and fuck hard against the man, but he knew that if he did that, Hamilton would see Burr as the man who hurt him beyond compare. Besides, he told himself that he would go gently with the man, and he intended to keep that promise to himself. Taking a deep breathe, Burr pulled back the slightest amount and then pushed forward the slightest-bit faster than he had before. Taking it slow, he continued to pull out and push back in in a manner that would cause the least pain and keep his heart from shattering. He could still hear the muted sounds the man made against the cock in his mouth, although they had long since been sounds of indignified struggle. They were sad, desperate noises that made Burr shudder in anger and revulsion. Nonetheless, he continued his gentle actions, only hoping to give Alex some sort of pleasure. 

Burr failed to notice when Jefferson had finally come down Hamilton’s throat, giving him one last humiliating slap to the face along with a whisper in the ear to call him a “dirty little whore.” He didn’t notice as Jefferson clothed himself, took hold of his objects, and shuffled towards the door with a forgotten Madison in toe. Somehow he even managed to not notice the slamming of the doors to the meeting hall as the men left, pride a-hand. Burr only managed to notice all of these things when Hamilton let out a high preening noise, something of a whimper, something that was not quite a cry but pretty close. 

“Hamilton? Oh my- dear Hamilton, are you alright?” Burr had stopped his thrusting and was about to pull out, shock at what had happened- what he had done- overwhelming his system. His own cock was still heavy with arousal and he desperately wanted to thrust himself fully into the man. He wouldn’t though. He has respect. 

“Please, sir, please don’t stop,” he cried, catching Burr off guard. He called him sir as he had during their first meeting. He was asking him not to stop. Why?

“What? I don’t understand. You-”

“Please, Burr, please. I need it. I need this. I need to be hurt, to be punished for my wrong-doings. I’m a bad man, Burr. I’m bad. Oh God, please hurt me.”

And Hamilton is so broken and sad and desperate that Burr can feel his heart breaking, he can hear the words that Jefferson had been spitting at Alex replay in his ears. Every claim of being a whore, of being a traitor, of being useless and disgraceful and immoral. He couldn’t see Hamilton’s face- and that was a problem unto itself- but if he could, Burr knew that he would be seeing his face withering in sorrow with tears spilling endlessly. 

Despite Hamilton’s pleas, Burr pulled out. The man backed away slowly, hands hovering over Hamilton’s thighs are touching them soothingly. 

“I’m going to reposition you, okay? I want to see your face. I- I want to hold you.”

And he kept to his word, turning Hamilton over and wiping away the tears that fell from his eyes. A sob fell from the man’s lips at the gentle affection, and Burr leaned in and planted a careful kiss on his lips in order to silence his cries. The man couldn’t help but wonder why Burr was treating him so kindly- so carefully. He didn’t bother asking.

Aaron Burr pulled Alexander Hamilton into his arms as he sat back against a tall backed chair and pulled Hamilton down onto his cock. Both men gave out a gasp at the connection, and as Alexander submitted, he didn’t bother choking off the sob that rippled through his body. Burr was aware of every sound he made, every feeling that the both of them had, every move that Hamilton made. Both men worked against one another, Hamilton shifting down onto Burr’s cock as the latter man shifted up into his pleading body. Alexander cried out thrust after agonizingly-slow thrust as Burr managed to hit his prostate straight on. The come left over from Jefferson was wiped away from Alexander’s face in respect to the man, causing the smaller man to look away in shame. Upset at this, Burr held Alex’s face in his hands in order to stare him straight in the eye.

“Just keep watching me, okay? You’re going to be okay,” he claimed, taken-back by his own words. Who knew where they had come from. He started off the day wanting to end the man and bring about his downfall, and now here he was, leaving empty promises and doing whatever he could to make the man whole again whilst making love to him. Perhaps he was hit with an epiphany, a realization that Hamilton truly was doing what he thought was for the best. Certainly the man was a nuisance, but he was not a bad man and did not deserve to be hurt as so. “You’re beautiful, Alexander, you’re so beautiful.” 

Another sob left Alexander’s lips as the words left Burr’s mouth, his stare so intense that the same simply couldn’t look away. He was faced with so many emotions that he could hardly keep up. Anger, confusion, pleasure, confliction, tenderness, and the devotion that he had felt in the moment when he first met Aaron Burr. As he continued to sob, new tears streaming from his eyes, Aaron leaned in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. 

“It will be okay, I promise. I’ll help you fix things. It can get better,” Burr promised as he pulled back. He continued thrusting up into Alexander, shuddering as the man pushed down against him desperately. He was needy, and Burr hurried his pace in hopes of giving Hamilton exactly what he needed. The man cried out everytime Burr hit his prostate head-on. He held onto the man’s face and kept his eyes glued to the other’s. The thrusting continued for a few minutes more- never reaching to point where it would become fucking- before Burr came blissfully surrounded by the squeeze of Hamilton’s walls.  
“Aaron, please. Please,” Alexander cried, hair falling in his face as Burr’s hand fell to his cock. With a few twists of his hand, Alex was coming, long and drawn out. Aaron continued to rock in and out of the man in order to milk both of their orgasms, and Alexander’s face fell to the curve of Burr’s neck in order to gasp in a breath of air. 

Once both were finished, Burr slowly slid out of the man. He brushed Alex’s hair out of his face as he tightened his arms around the man’s nearly tiny frame. As he cradled him to his chest, he promised himself that he would do whatever he could to help this man. He had a lost a piece of himself that day, and it had come to belong to a Mister Alexander Hamilton.


End file.
